


A Ragtag Bunch

by Wendymypooh



Series: Moments [5]
Category: The Young Riders
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6182437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wendymypooh/pseuds/Wendymypooh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ragtag bunch of orphans sign up to work for the Pony Express.5th Story in my 'Moments' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ragtag Bunch

Kid stood along the corral fence with the other five boys who had arrived at Emma Shannon’s property on the outskirts of Sweetwater. They were a ragtag bunch of misfits that included: a half-breed, a mute, a braggart, a gunfighter, a puny boy, and a Southerner. All of them knew how to ride or shoot or else they would not have signed up for the job, but none of them had the first idea about being a Pony Express rider. 

Buck Cross was half-Kiowa, half-white. He was the first Indian Kid had encountered since leaving Virginia, and was nothing like the ‘savages’ depicted in the spun yarns the old men back in Manassas used to tell to anyone within earshot and willing to listen. His speech and style of dress leaned more to the way white men dressed, and aside from the long, dark hair, the dangling earring in one ear, and the medicine bag around his neck, he looked like one too.  
Kid listened with interest as Teaspoon Hunter, the stationmaster and their new employer, stepped over to a quiver he had set up for usage later in their training and retrieved an arrow from it. Buck made quick work in identifying the first two arrows. Teaspoon drew out a third arrow and handed it to Buck to examine as Kid and the others waited to see if he would be accurate in identifying the third one as well.  
“This one, you made.” Kid heard Buck say and watched a flicker of a smile pass over Teaspoon’s face as the older man set the quiver of arrows aside and moved onto the next boy in line.  
Jimmy Hickok wore his gun hanging low and had a chip on his shoulder. Kid pegged him for someone to be wary of until he got to know him. He did not fear Hickok, but he had learned a long time ago that anyone with a hot temper and a quick gun, was someone to be cautious around. Evidently, Teaspoon did not like what he saw either.  
“Wearing that Colt a mite low ain’t ya?”  
“Feels about right.” Jimmy remarked.  
Teaspoon asks, “Got a hair trigger?”  
“Yep.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Jimmy.”  
“Yer whole name.”  
“Hickok. James Butler Hickok.”  
Teaspoon proceeded to tell Hickok that if he wanted to ride for the express, he best concentrate on riding horses, and not on gun fighting. He expounded on the fact that he had a zero tolerance for trouble making. Jimmy’s smirk seemed to flag around the edges at Teaspoon’s words and Kid hoped that the dark haired rider heeded the older man’s words. Teaspoon’s next words drew Kid’s attention onto the boy standing beside Hickok.  
“What about you?”  
The boy was tall, with a slight build, bald, and wore a bandanna wrapped around his head, under his hat. He gazed back at Teaspoon with an anxious look on his face.  
“Speak up boy!” Teaspoon knocked the boy’s hat off his head, hoping to jar him into responding.  
“He can’t talk, but he can hear.” Buck quickly explained. “His name’s Ike McSwain. He’s real good with animals, especially horses.”  
“You can ride can’t you?” Teaspoon asked Ike.  
Ike nodded. Kid let out the breath he had been holding. He had been hoping that Ike’s inability to speak would not be a reason for Teaspoon to not let him ride for the express. He reckoned Teaspoon thought Ike deserved the same opportunity as the rest of them to be riders. Kid turned his attention back onto Teaspoon as he approached the next boy in line.  
The boy was blond and dressed in fancy buckskins. He leaned against the fence as if he alone held it up. His head was cast down and he did not raise it until Teaspoon leaned over and set his face eye level with the younger man. Kid hid a smile as Teaspoon asked, “And what is your name?”  
“William F. Cody. Billy, if you like.”  
“Well, I don’t like.”  
In response to Teaspoon’s words, the boy smirked as he straightened up, hefted the rifle he held in one hand, turned and took aim over the corral fence. The angry bark of gunfire filled the air, making Kid wince at the sound, and was followed by the ‘snap’ of a rope breaking in two. He watched as a large bale of hay dangling from a rope outside the barn loft, unraveled, and tumbled to the ground, sending hay flying about. Kid let out a low whistle. That was some of the best distance shooting he had ever seen.  
His whistle earned him a look from Teaspoon before the older man exploded with a few choice words for Cody, indicating that one of the first things they needed to remember was that ‘Staying and fighting’ was the last thing they wanted to do as Pony Express riders. Their jobs would be to get the mail through no matter what obstacles they encountered on their rides and sometimes that meant ‘running like hell’.  
Kid eyed the boy next to him at the same time Teaspoon did. He was shorter than the rest of them with dark hair and glasses.  
“You sure you can cut this work?” The boy lifted his head so that he could peer up at him under his glasses. “You look to me to be a mite puny.”  
The boy’s only answer was to take off his glasses and hand them to the station master. He ran past the other boys, leaping onto the horse trough, onto the corral fence and a waiting horse’s back. Kid’s mouth dropped open as he watched the boy ride the horse into the center of the corral, turn, and jump off the horse white its running, then bounces up and over the horse, touching her boots down on the other side of the horse, back up into the saddle again, all while the horse was in motion. As it nears the fence, he jumped out of the saddle onto the fence, bounds down to the trough and onto the ground, and races back to take his place in line between him and Cody. Kid could tell he was not the only one to have been impressed by the smaller boy’s riding abilities. It was apparent that Teaspoon was a bit impressed as well as he handed the boy his glasses back and quickly amended his earlier statement, 

“Puny, but spry,”  
Kid found himself next in line for questioning by the station master. 

“I guess you’re a dead shot too? Hard as nails?”  
“Need the work.”  
“Got a rifle?”  
Kid shook his head.  
“Want me to issue you one?”  
“No thanks. Just as soon save the weight.” 

“You don’t seem quite as thick as some of these other boys. But we’ll see.”  
Kid shrugged his shoulders. He was relieved when Teaspoon turned away and started to explain to the six of them just what would be expected from them while working for Russell, Majors, and Waddell. He did not care how difficult the training was or how long the hours, he only knew he was going to be a Pony Express rider, and he was glad.


End file.
